


Cliches

by nightmarefever



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (its akechi), First Time, Life Sucks But Maybe Our Love Can Save The Day, M/M, Porn Without Plot (but with emotions), Sloppy Makeouts, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefever/pseuds/nightmarefever
Summary: “...You’re warm. And flustered. Do I fluster you, Kurusu?”“There's a hot boy in my lap. I'm going to be kinda flustered.”





	Cliches

**Author's Note:**

> haven't written a proper fic in uhhh like 2-3 years and im also working on this on next to no sleep so i hope my rustiness doesn't totally shine through. akeshu just really makes me wanna write and there's not enough trans akechi stuff so i must go forth and provide it...
> 
> only other things to say is this takes place during sae's palace month (which ive only played like. a week of) and i think it's a common love-hate transmasc thing so akechi does love having his breasts touched.... if ur not into that or it triggers dysphoria, there's your warning. otherwise have fun!

It was cliched. Trapped at the cafe due to weather. Migrating upstairs to find something to do. Video games, homework, idle conversation. _Anything._  

“Is your bed reservation only?” 

“...Huh? "

“I'm asking if I can sit with you.” 

“Oh. Sure, yeah, duh.”

Idle talk drowning into an uncomfortable silence. Or maybe just for Akira. Goro on his phone, stylus tapping against the rain. Akira curious, too bold because he forgets the lack of boundaries all his friends have aren't the same as Goro’s. Resting his head on his shoulder to watch.

“...This is private, Kurusu.” 

“And boring.”

“Oh and let me guess? Playing with you isn't?”

“We’d have a _lot_ more fun yeah.” Wrapping around his arm like a stubborn child. “And you have all night to play with me, Akechi.”

“... _A-ah.”_

 _“_ All night.”

“Kurusu, I didn't mean--” 

“...Oh uh. Me neither -- unless you'd want to -- wait uh.” 

Goro putting his stylus away, phone tapping on his lips. An obvious heat on his face. Akira fumbling. Not sure what exactly he was even trying to do. Tease the other as usual mostly - but play flirting was different in a palace safe room or on a crowded train than alone together on a bed. Wasn't sure if he was baiting for more teasing, for them to play his new game, to lead to _something._  

Somehow Goro took whatever bait it was though. Tossing aside his phone, unbuttoning his blazer.

“...Do you want to play?” 

Akira’s turn to fluster. “Uh… I mean if you want to.” 

“What if I want to?” 

Hotter. “...Then.” He never thinks this far. Can't concentrate as Goro neatly folds his blazer on the floor, adjusts his undershirt so it's still properly tucked in. He taps his leg, realizes Goro isn't looking at him, and says, too loudly, “Come here.” Loud enough Goro visibly jumps and quickly obeys, chucking off his shoes and sitting in Akira’s lap.

"Sorry." 

“...You’re warm. And flustered. Do I fluster you, Kurusu?”

“There's a hot boy in my lap. I'm going to be kinda flustered.” 

“I'm flattered. I hope you know what to do with me.” 

“Me? Think it'd be more fitting for you to do something, mister celebrity.”

“Ha! Like what?”

“Kiss me for starters.” 

“Then a kiss it is.”

And then the atmosphere gets harsher. The joking is more serious when hands are threading tighter into curls, gloves disappearing into the black, only leaving the unusually gentle sensation of fingers on skin. Holding him in place as foreheads touch, noses brush. Crimson closes. He's left staring forward at pinched eyebrows and a deep breathe drifting from parted lips. 

Their hearts are ringing. Thunder bellows outside. Goro swallows his bottom lip and he can feel the motion against his own. He wants to lose the space carrying on too long. Wants to finally feel the distance close yet he hesitates. The boldness, ability to reach this point… Goro deserves to take it first.

He won't be any less impatient though. He's pinned too long to be kept waiting. 

Thumbs rub Akira’s cheeks. Two swipes. Slowly feeling his scorching skin and then it's over. A quick press of their lips before Goro is breathing shaken on them. So sudden Akira feels annoyance start to cover up his yelling nerves to stop from grabbing his tie and shoving then together. 

But it's fine. He flares up again with heat with a second press. A longer kiss with fingers curling into his hair to bring him somehow closer and he melts, holding wrists. Feeling sweat in the small dip between glove and sleeve. Feeling a sigh as he can return the kiss without guilt now, leaning up into the curve of Goro’s mouth and a bonded, low gasp.

There's a pause. Briefly with lips flushed, breathing caught, and minds rushing. This is stupid. It's moronic. Both of them know well enough they shouldn't be alone, they shouldn't be in bed, and gloves shouldn't be rubbing comfort into his face, shouldn't be pressing his palms to a chest that heaves in a way that can't lie. But that's what makes this so fun. Watching the return of dark red against dark grey, fingers fumbling open top buttons and sliding under a tight binder, tight hands back on his face with a rough kiss. Tongues flattening in Akira’s mouth. Goro’s back arching as the white under fabric goes over his collarbones. 

“Can I…”

His back can't press harder into the wall. The rain on his window sounds like it's falling into his face. Skin from the corner of his eye so close to being held his fingers are twitching and he wonders if he's always been this impatient, this desperate to be with the other.

Goro presses his hands until his chest fits right in the curve of Akira’s palms. A small, devilish chuckle on his ear. “Please do.”

Akira smiles.

They feel made for each other. Lips fitting together, noses just brushing without awkward collision. Soft breasts filling his hands just enough every inch is at his mercy but neither of them have any worry. There's an unspoken trust. A decided safety unfamiliar yet the most defining reason that lets Goro tuck into his neck and Akira to close eyes to engulf himself in the faint sounds against his ear with each brush of fingers over pink blushed. Here, Tokyo’s brilliant prince so adamant about bringing him down can sit in his lap and he can feel the most serene peace he's felt all year.

They're both so stupid.

Perhaps that's the heat of the moment making them idiots. Is it still sudden passion if it feels built to over months of escalating flirtion? Longing glances over the cafe counter? Aimless conversations just for the sake of keeping company from going yet?

It has to be passion from how dizzy Akira feels. They both know what's to come and what can't be changed and he can _hear_ scolding by anyone finding out and yet --

Akira straightens his back. Goro fumbles to unbuckle his belt. The comfort of him not trying to hide his own impatience with a hiss, his own inexperience with the motions, makes Akira giggle.

“That's rude, leader.”

Akira kisses his cheek, blesses each unhidden freckle his lips get to touch. “Let's focus on you for now, yeah?”

“Do you not want to get off?” Goro returns the gesture. His lips are so hot on Akira’s face, remaining pressed enough he can feel the smile on them. “I'm supposed to be playing with _you_.”

“After you.”

There's a teasing scoff. The answer isn't satisfactory enough. Fingers that struggled to take off a simple latch slide low, a straight line down a prominent curve. “I _want_ to get you off.”

Akira sighs. Maintains hips that wish to arch into light touches.

“You're so hard. Please let me--”

“I bet you're soaked,” Akira murmurs, flushing at their honesty but it's just Goro that he feels he can say anything to without being left alone feeling stupid. And he knows the feeling is mutual. Otherwise they'd be back to ‘innocent’ teasing and Goro having to excuse himself with red cheeks when he dared make anything _close_ to a lewd remark. Now, he feels up thighs hardened by intense work, framing _his_ hips on _his_ bed. Rubbing closer and closer up but not quite enough to do anything but pull a small whimper from the detective who swallows it back down.

It's cute how quiet Goro wants to be. As if hearing him will be what stops these games and they'll finally be the enemies they need to be. Like it's the final vulnerable thing they can share and he still wants to cling to it. Akira respects it. He respects it but he's still determined.

Their foreheads are together, Akira trying to meet a gaze that is looking past him. “How wet are you, Akechi?”  This is difficult. He doesn't want to sound like a fool, doesn't want to go too far and push Goro finally away. But the genuine embarrassment riddled on the other’s face gives him pride to not care so much. “You usually run when I'm just talking to you. You've gotta be making an absolute mess from me actually touching you. I bet you're dripping right down your thighs under your slacks…”

Roaming hands get closer. Closer. Palm pressing suddenly into him and Goro sucks down on his bottom lip. The eye contact’s piercing now.

Akira actually laughs, butterflies threatening to choke him. He can't maintain the seduction. He's too nervous. “You...you're soaked. God, you're really -- C-Can you lay down?” Other hand is behind a back already before Goro’s nodding and letting himself be lowered. And the moment his back is on the bed, he's holding his face.

Akira starts on his belt. “You need air -- oh it's not that bad.” He moves the hands. Places a kiss to knuckles. Drowns in his nerves at hazy red eyes that stare at him.

“I'm easy.”

“You are _not_ easy.”

“These are good pants.” 

“There's a laundromat next door, don't worry about it.” He props a pillow beneath Goro’s head. Goes back to pulling his belt off.

Hears a truly nervous laugh. The other blurts out “... You're so handsome for a thief.” 

“I assume if I wasn't you wouldn't be pooling in your boxers.” He tosses the belt to the floor.

“Don't be vulgar.” But he's laughing again, cupping his face to hide. Akira’s heart aches at the sound, busy at pants, letting him hide for now. He's never seen Goro like this. Face painted red, all stage makeup washed off by sweat and wandering touches, totally openly exposing himself and he laughs so cute when he's nervous. _When he’s nervous, he laughs._ “I'm fine. I'm not easy. I'm _wet_ from nothing --” A more serious tone. “You're really hard."

“Yeah I can tell.”

“Let me take care of it.”  

Akira just shakes his head, pulling Goro’s slacks down his legs, hips lifting to make it easier and there's where protest dies. Each layer lost makes this feel more real. More than just him fantasizing. Goro Akechi really is in his bed, laying underneath him, gloved hands running through long, soft hair. And maybe it's an act, part of it or all of it, but Akira knows he's honest. His heart’s louder than the thunder outside and he's honest.

Ignoring, for now, the obvious dampness in light boxers, he kisses a stomach that tightens reflexively. Softens with his nose against dark hair just above a bandwidth.

If he’s totally honest, he’s totally in love.

Akira gets his overshirt off, the black melting into the floorboards, discarded slacks, mind that can't think of anything but the boy sighing as he kisses up his chest. Smiles into the curve of his neck. Knows he’s rubbing into Goro’s boxers by a soft “Kurusu?”

“Mm?” He's in love with the hair on his face, the scent of vanilla faint besides the mustiness of the attic space.

Goro swallows, pulse of his neck against Akira’s lips. An odd hesitation before he finally says, quietly, “Please touch me?”

It's hard not to rut down. Akira moves, lying by his side instead of straddling. “Anything you want.”

“I wanted to touch you first.”

“Anything not bonkers.”

Goro smiles back, defeated. Just tucking his head over into Akira’s chest. His arms go around the one Akira uses to prop himself up and the simple, unnecessary gestures have him leaning for another kiss. Covering Goro’s speckled cheeks in more, the sharp line of his jaw, sweaty forehead More skin exposed with fingers going down soaked fabric and a dizzying warmth underneath.

Wet fingers rub gentle lines. Goro’s pressed firmly on his chest now, brown encasing his face entirely but the feeling of an open mouth, held back gasps, is certain. Earlier impatience nags. How badly Akira wants the detective to come totally undone. How much he's aching, restricted in his clothes that he needs to rip off. How he _needs_ to be buried in Goro’s guts now.

_Take your time. Just… t...take your time._

Fingers drags on a small, hard lump and Goro seems to choke up. “I said touch me.” There's a higher pitch to his voice, desperation starting to come through. Akira isn't alone in how much he's holding back. But despite their shared urgency, a gut feeling tells him jumping the gun ( _hahaha)_ will only end in tears.

It just means his own aches can wait. Goro’s of the utmost importance.

Akira’s fingers thread through messy hair to pull Goro to his face, capturing again lips growing swollen with attention. He notices how much less pale they look now, darkened it seems for the spotlight. So pink now. So eager as he dips under a bandwidth to circle that same hardness directly.

Goro’s eyebrows pinch, legs tilting out. A sound muffles in Akira’s mouth. So he opens both of theirs, shuddering at the spit trailing, unrestrained moan tumbling out from the other. Still soft but hot on his teeth and embarrassing enough Goro puts his face into the pillow, teeth clenched.

It's… annoying. Frustrating. Nobody would even hear him. Nobody but him. And he needs to hear Goro fully open, unrestrained. The golden boy of Tokyo putty underneath him. Only for him.

He doesn't want to remember this could be less intimate than he wants. He wants to fight for the chance to have Goro next to him and trusting him and loving him as unfortunately as he loves him.

“Akechi.”

Hips jerk. Finger drags. Face hides.

“Look at me. Please.”

He can't help pleading but it's what brings Goro back, the two facing again. Akira can't help pushing away hair sticking to his face. Foreheads pressing again. Noses just touching.

“It'd really help if you'd be louder, you know?” Dragging finger dips lower. Akira flushes harsher. Right. He’s soaking. “Can you do that? Just for me?” He enters him so easily it makes his pants tighten. Just a little longer. “I promise I'll be screaming for you later if you're embarrassed.” Two fingers… God it's unfair.

Goro’s breathing shudders. A fruitless attempt to move his head has Akira pressing their faces harder together. “I…” His eyes dart down his body. The look on his face pure ecstasy. 

“It's ok, Akechi.” Akira curls his digits. Starting a careful motion to coax away the tension. Each step of this can't help make his chest burn. The reality is still too hard to grasp. 

A moan finally tumbles out. He must have hit something tender, sighing at the way walls get harder to thrust into. But he manages, dedicated to drawing out more of those sweet, soft sounds. Goro stops wiggling from his gaze. Returns with a strong look up even through the fingers.

“You're cruel.” It's hard to take seriously spoken in a whimper. A kiss. But he’s trying to sound so, so serious and mad. “Stop acting like you're not aching too.”

“Are you aching, Akechi?” Akira pushes his fingers as deep as he can. Goro hiccups. Another squeezes in besides the others and he’s allowed to tilt his head back. “For the record,” Akira continues, moving to pepper kisses over his face once more. Notes how Goro’s eyes close, how he wishes he could reach his phone from here and fill his memory with pictures, videos of how disheveled Goro Akechi can be. How cute he is panting under his hand. “It’s taking every ounce of self control not to fuck you into my mattress.”

“Why don't you?” Oh, almost a growl. He’s frustrated. “You should. _Now._ ”

Akira tries to bite back his grin. Every moment of this is better than he could've ever hoped for. Never expected to get scolded for not bedding Goro fast enough. He hides his delight in Goro’s bosom. Hears a light squeak from the pressure. Then a bitten moan as he takes one perked nipple into his mouth. Tongue flattening. Lips sucking down. Fingers beckoning deep inside the squirming detective.

Lifts up with a giggle. “Hurry up and come and I can.” Gives a careful bite.

Maybe it's him, digging, thrusting, covering Goro’s breasts in light hickies. Maybe it's the goal in mind now. Regardless of the reason, Goro ruts down into Akira’s hand. Regardless of why, Akira’s thankful, wrist growing sore from the position, fingers cramped inside that wondrous heat. Able to thumb freely at Goro’s clit and hear the hitching in his breathing each time he pushes down.

Goro’s legs clench, shaking violently. Hands tugging at his tie. But he tries to keep rutting.

His forehead is kissed. “Close?”

“Yes!” 

Akira’s gut burns at the choked shout. Groin practically throbs in want. _Soon._ They're getting somewhere finally. The rest is going to murder him.

“Joker!” It's an odd choice. Odd but it makes his power high blossom. Like they're alone in the metaverse, trying to finish before shadows or teammates find them. Him with his hand down Crow’s pants, licking up his neck. Crow holding his wrist with a death grip, breathing in loud shudders through his nose, hips jerking off the wall -- off a creaking mattress. “Oh God…”  

He feels delirious with power and lust, whining on Goro’s neck. And he hasn't even gotten to get inside him yet. “Good boy.” It feels natural and with the way Goro whimpers, right. “Good boy… come on. Come on…" 

He hopes he'll stay with the Phantom Thieves to let him go into mementos, just the two of them. Just long enough to make him sob like he is now in that arrogant prince uniform. Pop open carefully sewn buttons to get to skin marked by _him_ now, pull regal pants down and shove his face into -- 

A load moan breaks Akira from his thoughts. It's when he notices a new wetness pooling out from around his fingers, emptying into his palm as Goro calms his hips, trying to breathe. 

“...D-Did you…?"

Arms are over Goro’s face again. A nod. 

Akira slowly removes his hand from ruined boxers. His fingers are… sticky. Sticky and wet and hot. They make his eyes close when he runs his tongue over them, not even thinking before the taste is on his tongue and so strong. So delightful. 

Kisses Goro’s cheek. “I can't believe you're a squirter.” 

Goro shoves him, voice heavy through pained intakes. “Don't you _dare_ say that _ever_ again.”  

“Right into my hand-” The dizziness could make him faint. The emotional high from earlier is dulling into such a raw, primal heat he keeps praying he can survive the next step. “Do you usually do that?” 

“Huh?”

Fingers brush hair. Akira moves to sitting on top of the other. “Does that usually happen when you're… you know?” Lightbulb explodes in his mind. “Do you get off ever?” 

“You have no idea how stressful my life is, Kurusu.”

Akira grins. “Do you ever think of me?”

Goro fidgets. He plays with a loose button on his shirt. Avoids grey, piercing eyes. 

“I think about you. Every time.” 

“That's unfortunate.” But a small smile plays on his face. 

“Sorry if it's like...rude-” 

“When aren't you?” 

“I used to think about you fucking me before I found out you… couldn't.” 

Goro laughs. Akira already regrets the words from its suddenness. _Please don't leave yet._  

The other seems to understand how he comes off. A sly smile meets Akira’s face, hands rubbing his arms. Goro weakly leans up, placing a kiss on a worried mouth. “I can still bed you if I want to, Kurusu. Meet me in the metaverse sometime.” 

“...D-Does something happen in the metaverse?” 

“And,” Goro continues, leaving him stuttering on thoughts of just what was meant before. “I… have thought about you. A few times.” Hands on arms fall to tangle with fingers. “Guiltily imagining my fated rival sneaking into my apartment and... making love to me in a heated moment.” He trails off, obviously with more to say but embarrassed enough, even if he tries to sound like he's joking, mocking the whole conversation.

“Uhuh.” Akira squeezes his hand for more.

Goro swallows. Continues to hesitate. Breathes in a grumpy way and grumbles, “P...Packing me full… full of his cum.”

“Say cum again.” 

“You know I carry a gun with me.”

Akira kisses his nose. “You're adorable.” Kisses his mouth and is surprised by a rougher return. Melting into it.

This feels almost… natural. Getting each other off. Joking about it. Each kiss shared more confidently. It has been months since they'd first met but the atmosphere now is so much more.

Hopefully he isn't just reading into things. “I can do that if you want.”

“No.”

“Oh.” 

“I'm not joking when I say if you do not have a condom, I am leaving.”

“I have so many condoms!” Akira almost falls out of his bed to get to his bag. Goro chuckles as he digs and… this is so natural. This feels like the aftermath of years of dating than inviting the boy he's been crushing on for months upstairs and ending up in bed with him when they'd never even kissed before.

Dating… Would Goro _want_ to date…? He isn't even sure it's wise to go down that rabbit hole.

“That looks fancy.”

“...I got it at the convenience store “

“I figured. Come here.” 

Goro gestures for him to return. Akira slips back in front of him, handing the circle of plastic to him. Evidently not close enough as his belt loops are tugged forward until his legs are on either side of the other. Other sitting cross legged and doing a much less fumbled job of undoing his belt. 

Goro’s far more careful now. The nerves seem to be down, for both of them. They're comfortable. The rain's still heavy. And Akira is groaning as his arousal is finally pulled out, leaning back on his hands, head light. It feels like an eternity had passed before now. By the strain, the string of precum attached to the inside of his boxers, it almost was. 

“Thank you…” 

“Your cock is so big.” It's said with a flutter, Akira _feeling_ the lust behind it before it drops. Goro immediately bites his lip, taken aback by himself. Definitely notices the way Akira twitches in his palm from his words and drops him.

“Say cock again.”

“You just did.” 

“No no no, you--!” He's too weak from waiting. Just plastic rolling over his length has his stomach tighten, mouth drooling and - Is he really drooling? He has to distract himself before he ends this too soon. “Do you… like bigness?”

“I'm not opposed to it.” Bottom boy slides his boxers off. A mesmerizing sight. His situation is just as messy as Akira’s, an obvious from how bad things were already.  Seeing it, ruined underwear going to the floor, the utter slickness below… God.

“...What words are you like… fine with being used?”

“...What?” Goro looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. “...Do you mean-?” 

“Yeah?” 

He pauses, scratching his neck. After a moment of thought, he takes Akira’s hands. Still gloved to his dismay but it's a bridge to cross later. Hands aren't much compared to the near nudity otherwise. 

“Maybe none at all, if we may.” 

“I can't even talk about sucking your dick?” 

Goro wavers. Mouth agape. Then lips being licked. “...I'm fine with that.”

Akira smiles, letting himself be pulled down, pressed on top of Goro. It's here he realizes how dressed he still is so he tries sitting up. 

“Wait, wait.” 

Akira pauses pulling his shirt up.

“I…” Gloves brush through hair yet again. “I would prefer… you keep everything on.”

“...Yeah?" 

“Yeah.” 

And that's that. They fall into silence for a moment but for once it isn't awkward. It isn't uncomfortable. It feels right. Legs are gently put around a waist, Goro adjusting his pillow with a soft smile. A trusting look that's returned without any hesitation. No worried pester him for this moment. There's no metaverse or palaces, no psychotic breakdowns or boys with guns promising to greet him with them.

There’s just watching a freckled face, watching him, swollen lips parting to gasp. There’s a slow push forward where he considered grabbing lube. It's clear how fine they are without it. A hand reaching to hold his and _squeezing_ at just the start. No more for now, feeling terrified of overwhelming the other. _Am I actually big or was he just being horny?_

Gut aches at the thought of Goro Akechi horny. Wasn't that just how he was now? No that's lustful. He can't imagine him actively trying to get fucked.

“You good?”

Instead of a response, arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down to those perfect pink lips. And a nod. And a whimper, “I can take all of you, Joker.”

Joker again… maybe it's kinky for him. 

“I believe you.” 

“No you don't.” 

“Just…” 

He can't think of any real argument. Opting to pretend it's not happening. Start shallow, careful thrusting that makes a choking sound leave Goro. 

Akira returns his kisses. “Does it hurt?”

“N-No. You're… so gentle. It's nice.” He's burying his face in Akira’s hair. “You're nice.”

Akira hesitates, so sure of what he wants to say. So sure of the consequences but not ready to accept them. Maybe he can be delirious enough to make a full fool of himself later. For now, Goro’s hips are bucking down, boy pathetically desperate to be full. Akira worriedly trapped between giving him what he wants and not doing anything that could potentially ruin this perfect instance. 

He grunts, dipping a little deeper. “What was I like? When you imagined this?” 

Goro looks confused, pants slow as he stares up. Then something clicks and he’s babbling in an unexpected way. “B...Before I knew what Joker wore, I just imagined you in your uniform. Then when I did… Heh… You're always so flirtatious, as… hah, you are. And you'd pin me to my bed with my face in a pillow… You’d be like an animal and sometimes you take pictures and say you'll put them out like calling cards… G-Goro Akechi, the Phantom Thieves’ sl -- y-you're distracting me…” Goro whimpers, head tilting on his pillow. Akira tries soothing him, full of worry, kissing his cheek as he adjusts to the new deepness, Akira fully sheathed inside of him. “Y-You're… in my stomach. You're -- Joker!”

Akira tries not to sob at the feeling too. He's never felt such warmth, such pressure. Experienced the way Goro clenches down when he realizes he’s got his wish. “Sorry I'm...just Akira right now.” He cups Goro’s face. “I'll ask Joker to have his way with you later, ok?”

“I love just Akira too… Can I call you Akira?” 

He can hardly hear over his thundering heart. Brain mush. “...You can call me...anything you want, Goro.” 

“Goro…”

Akira can't help it now, tucking into Goro’s neck. He finally moves. He rocks back and forth into that sweet comfort, embarrassed by how loud he can hear himself moaning from it, upset bc it drowns out the quiet noises from the other he keeps finding more confidence in letting out, body swaying to meet his thrusts. 

Akira tugs under those gloves, pulling them off so for once he can actually touch the other. A shaky gasp tells him how unexpected it is. 

Something hard stops him deep inside Goro and he whimpers. About to apologize for hitting it when his hands are being held, face kissed, hips still pushing. 

Chanting on his neck of _Akira, Akira, Akira, Please, I like it, Please --_  

If he says he does, well. 

Goro gives an unrestricted sob, head thrown back as Akira’s pace picks up, cock pounding forward and hopefully making his gut burn as much as Akira’s. Without anymore roadblocks, there's no room for worry or fear. Only him and Goro. Only the rocking of his mattress on crates. Only the rain quieting outside. Only squeezing hands and him moaning into sweat drenched skin, “I-I think I love you, Goro.” 

Thunder crackling. Bed swaying. Boys jerking forward, Akira feeling the pressure overwhelming, Goro tightening again. He tries to give every last strength he has. Knowing the frantic sound of their skin hitting together is almost nauseating - or it’s the coming finish overtaking his body. 

“Oh Akira…” 

Knowing when they come, nothing will probably change but they can still have this night. He still said what he wanted, he still removed every last barrier between them, and he still could pretend. 

“Akira… _f-fuck_ I--” 

“Goro, I'm… I’m coming!” Didn't know his voice could get that high. 

“Me too...” 

It's cliched. 

Akira leaned over, grasping Goro’s chest as any kind of purchase. Hips maddening as the heat pools out. A final shout of the detective's name, mixing with his, teary eyes meeting his gaze as climax hits both in unison.  

The rain ends. No more pattering against the window or thunder. Just the sounds of cars distantly rushing through the city. Heavy labored breathing a melody. Beneath just the light sound of kissing.

“I'm fine.” Goro speaks first, knowing the question Akira’s about to ask about his tear-streaked face. “I… think I get overwhelmed easily.” He smiles. “I think you were right to pace us.”

Akira’s laugh comes out as a hiccup and it's how he realizes he's trying not to cry too. He wishes it was from being overwhelmed. He wishes anything were that simple. Instead just has no idea why he feels so emotional suddenly. Maybe he's overwhelmed too. 

Goro gimmicks as he leaves him, Akira trying to get his back to him as soon as possible. _You got what you wanted, why are you being so weird?_ He tries to not think. Gets the condom off, ties it. Looks for his trash can through foggy eyes.

Jumps as arms go around his chest and he stops himself looking back. Fakes a cheery tone. “That was crazy. I think I broke something.” 

“We can go to Mementos tomorrow… I can pay you back. You deserve it.” There's a face in his hair and Goro doesn't even hide how he's smelling it. “Thank you...Akira. That was more fun.”

His gut churns. Happiness and something so much worse. “Thanks for letting me be a wild animal.”

“You weren't that bad.” Goro laughs and Akira thinks he hears a snort. God… he snorts. “I've heard I'm kinda irresistible. The… more intense fans sometimes tell me that.”

Dripping of pipes outside. Pattering of paws. Morgana better not be coming back.

They both speak together, almost drowning each other out.

“Whatever you have waiting in Mementos better be fucking incredible after this buildup.”

“I'm… sorry for everything, Akira. I… love you too but I think it's too late to say it.”

Akira turns to face Goro. Detective holding his face away now. Moving off him to get his remaining clothes off.

He's not just overwhelmed. 

Akira hesitates, staring at his friend's….enemy's nude back. Seeing the same battle scars everyone has now, wrecked by a war they shouldn't have started. 

“...I don't think it's too late.”

There's a chuckle. “I'm glad you think that.” 

Goro’s cold in his arms despite everything but he fits perfectly in them, tucking his head back, eyes closed in one last serenity. They fit so perfectly together. If he was dumb enough, he'd think they belonged together.

But he’s dumb enough to think there’s still second chances, maybe he can be dumb enough for that.

“I know it, Goro.”


End file.
